


and then, i found you.

by vogelbiene



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Study, Happy Birthday Lance!, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, One-Sided Allurance, Post-Canon, Relationship Study, basically fixing up all of lance's friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 16:29:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15465468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogelbiene/pseuds/vogelbiene
Summary: It's the little things Lance picks up on, and it makes him who he is, clarifies what he was sent to do. One day he will realise it - will realise how much purpose he has in the universe.Lance unravels a lot about himself, untangling knots in his friendships along the way.





	and then, i found you.

It's the little things that Lance picks up on.

He picks up on the slight changes in atmosphere, picks up on the dwindling hope in eyes, picks up on the softest of exhausted sighs whenever a mission is brought to them.

They're tiny things, yes, but even the smallest of clouds can turn into the largest of ravaging storms. That's why, he supposes, his humour is so loud, so rambunctious - why he goes out of his way to make a fool of himself at times.

It's all he's good for, really - keeping that tiny spark in the air. Helping the others keep their head above the proverbial water. (Even if it was at the expense of his own pride.)

Of course, not always are those stupid remarks and clumsy attempts at cringe-inducing flirting are made to humour his friends. (? Were they really all that close now?) It was more of a reflex, one to shelter himself and boost himself up. It was a reflex to push away all those insecurities, especially the ones that liked to force their way into his brain at the most inopportune moments.

These tiny things _matter_ in the grand scheme of things, even if he himself does not believe so. Lance makes a difference in everyone's lives, even if they aren't aware of it.

It's the little things Lance picks up on, and it makes him who he _is_ , clarifies what he was sent to do. One day he will realise it - will realise how much purpose he has in the universe.

 

* * *

 

It was still so hard for Lance to wrap his head around the fact that he was here, that he was on _Earth,_  surrounded by his loving family.

As he sat on the lush grass, bare legs stretched out and soaking in the cold drops that crashed down upon them, Lance smiled. He grinned, he chuckled, he sighed in utter content. He missed this. He missed this so much.

He almost didn't hear the approaching footsteps behind him, so wrapped up in focusing on the feeling of finally being showered in fresh, earthly water. Lance jumped as the unknown party sat beside him, cautious yet with a semi-maternal aura.

“It's nice here.”

Cracking open an eye, Lance tilted his head up towards the voice. Shiro.

“Yeah. It's amazing.” He hummed, settling into a heavy silence. The air was thick with that left unsaid.

The silence was broken again, Shiro clearing his throat before laying a hand on Lance's shoulder.

“I’m proud of you, Lance.” He said, a genuine smile crossing his face. Lance gaped in shock. “You've… been through a lot. You've shouldered the team. You've grown.”

Hearing Shiro say that, Lance should have felt happy. Should have been proud of himself. Yet, he found himself trying to deny the praise.

“I haven't done much-”

Shiro cut him off, a frown on his face. “You have done a lot, Lance. You've taken control when needed. You realised when you needed to back down. You took care of all of us, even when-” A sharp intake of breath “-even when the clonebeat you down.”

Lance bit his lip, noticing how Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed just that little bit more once the clone incident was mentioned. Not that he could blame Shiro; he watched as an imposter using his face, his identity, practically tore the team apart. It took an obvious toll on the poor man.

The elder sighed, running his (surprisingly waterproof) prosthetic hand through his thoroughly-soaked mop of white hair. A final squeeze of his shoulder and Shiro stood, leaving his hand outstretched to help Lance up.

“What I'm trying to say, Lance, is that you're integral to the team - to _us_. Keep that in mind. We all appreciate you.”

Normally, Lance would have scoffed, would have made a joke or sarcastic remark in response. But now, standing in the rain with his _hero_ standing in front of him, praising him so highly, Lance couldn't do anything but grin.

“Thank you Shiro. It- it means a lot.”

He then was wrapped in an embrace, Shiro patting his back in comfort. Lance measured it akin to the the hugs that Marco gave him whenever he had won an award at school; warm, affectionate and filled with pride. He hadn't felt that for a long time.

The embrace was broken, but not before Shiro managed one last pat on the back.

“We should go inside.” Shiro hummed to himself, tilting his head up towards the clouds, noting the ever-darkening state of them. Lance snorted in return, shaking his head.

“I’d rather stay here. You know how long I've waited to just _feel_ rain again?” He laughed, grin about as wide, as dazzling as space-time itself. “I am going _nowhere_ Shiro.”

Shiro sighed, shaking his head. “Don't blame me if you get pneumonia.” A chuckle followed, and soon enough the two were laughing together, rain falling around them.

 

* * *

 

Lance had often gone out of his way to avoid Pidge and Hunk once they had landed on Earth and defeated Sendak and crew, allowing for some rest away from the stress of Voltron. It wasn't that he _hated_ them; he could never hate them - he was just sick of being prodded and poked at, always lagging behind in the intellectual discussions. It was best not to try anymore.

What he didn’t count on, however, was the idea that the two would actively seek him out. Hence why he nearly screeched when Pidge poked his back in a not-so-tender way whilst he was busy washing the dishes.

“What are you doing?!” He sputtered out, twisting away from Pidge’s abusive poking and dropping the plate into the sink with a loud _splash._  This was _his_ house with _his_ family, away from their families; there really wasn't any logical reason for them to come visit him. (And why his mother allowed them in without notifying him was a mystery.)

“What are _you_ doing, Lance?” Pidge shot back, hands on hips and leaning their tiny body into Lance's personal space. An accusing finger poked his bicep, and Hunk audibly groaned behind them.

“What Pidge _means_ to ask, Lance,” Hunk starts to explain, moving to his other side and shooting Lance a side-glance, “is why haven’t you talked to us lately?”

Now, Lance was never an angry person. Sure, he had a temper, but it only really showed up if whatever had angered him was constant. Even then, he had never truly been violent or yelled in a hostile way.

He may not be an angry person, but the two friends he had selflessly saved _multiple_ times, had tried to mix in with and was ultimately shut out with jabs and snarky remarks, coming to his house and demanding why he had pulled away? That made him angry.

Spinning on his heel, Lance made a jerky motion with his head as a wordless demand to follow him and stalked his way out the back door. He didn't want to make a scene in the house, after all.

Once both Hunk and Pidge had shuffled out, standing with a confused look on their face, Lance glowered. It was silent for approximately two seconds before Lance launched into a tirade.

“Do you _realise_ what you've been doing? Do you see how you two act?” He questioned, voice heated.

Pidge opened their mouth to speak, face filled with frustration, but Hunk quickly stopped a retort with a warning gaze. Pidge closed their mouth once more.

“And- and it hurts, guys. You know, I was there for you two. I have _been_ there for you. But as soon as I start to become grim, you decide it's okay to simply throw my feelings around as though it was one big joke?” Lance lifted his hands above his head, huffing angrily. “It's not just that either! It seems like you purposefully _shut me out_ whenever you do your little tech-y things. Sure, I'm not as smart as you two, but even acknowledging what I talk about would be enough.”

Hunk was biting his lip, looking at his feet with a sheepish look on his face, whilst Pidge stood, slack-jawed and rather taken-aback. Lance felt somewhat guilty.

“So that's why I haven't been hanging around you guys. That's why I haven't been talking to you. That's it.” Lance finished, arms falling and slapping against his thighs. The tiredness and guilt set in fully then and Lance sighed. He didn't mean to go off like that, but he supposed it was a long-time coming. One can only take so much, as his mama always said.

“I didn't realise-” Hunk started, but stopped himself. Lance wasn't meeting their eyes. “I'm sorry, Lance. I didn't know it hurt you so much.”

If Lance were an immature man, he would have rolled his eyes.

“I guess I get so caught up in the… atmosphere that I forget to include you.” He pauses, wringing his hands in front of himself. “You know I do care about you, right? We both do.”

Pidge nodded heartily, yet her brows were still furrowed. “They were jokes though. We were joking with you.” They tried to explain, scratching their cheek. “But… I guess they were mean. In the end.” They paused, processing words. “I'm sorry.”

Lance sighed, shoulders dropping now and head hanging. It was no use staying angry at them. He lifted his head up slightly and smiled up at the two gently. They were his friends after all, and friends forgive each other.

“Just don't let it happen again.” Lance chuckled, giving the two of them a toothy smile. Hunk then rushed forward, squeezing Lance in a bone-crushing hug, Pidge not too far behind.

“I won't buddy, I promise.” Hunk sniffled, not willing to let go of Lance just yet. Pidge hummed in agreement, stepping back and grinning mischievously at the two.

“Now,” They started, rubbing their hands together. “who wants to help me prank Matt?”

 

* * *

 

It was raining again.

Lance seemed to forget how quickly storms rolled in over the summer months, hitting the beachside town relentlessly. Yet, he still managed to find some sort of solstice in the gloomy weather.

Smiling bittersweetly to himself, Lance leant against the local diner’s window and watched his breath fog across the glass. Absentmindedly, he traced a heart within the little cloud of fog upon the glass, sighing forlornly.

It reminded him exactly _why_ he was here; he was waiting on Allura, who insisted that Lance took her to sample some “Earth food”.

Truly, Lance felt as though he should be ecstatic because in all technicalities of the word, this should be classed as a _date._  A date with _Allura,_  no less. Yet, he felt a deep sadness within him, a resignation of sorts.

He supposed it has something to do with the lingering feeling that Allura is well aware of his feelings, that she is well aware of her inability to reciprocate that love in the same way as Lance, that she is well aware of the fact that she needs a friend she can trust at this moment, and that friend is Lance. 

It was his time to step up, to rid himself of the hope that one day, the one he wanted would return his feelings. It was time to move on.

And yet, _and yet!_ he still managed to find his heart fluttering as soon as Allura stepped into the diner, bell tinkling above her head (reminding him of her laugh) and white hair flowing freely behind her.

She had done an exceptional job at hiding her alien qualities; concealer had managed to make her markings disappear completely, and a pink beanie covered the tips of her elvish ears. In all honesty, it was endearing how out of her way Allura went to blend in.

Lance waved a hand in greeting smiling warmly at his companion. Allura returned the sentiment, ducking behind a waitress and sliding into the booth seat opposite to Lance. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and eyes were shining with absolute excitement. The universe was making it hard for Lance to get over her.

“Lance! Thank you so much for allowing me to accompany you. I've been wanting to visit one of these diners, but Coran was simply too busy to humour me.” She gushed, setting her delicate hands upon the table, folded over one another.

Lance grinned, playfully commenting “I am honoured to be your date, my fair maiden.”

Allura's face fell ever-so-slightly; no normal person would have detected it, but Lance saw it and quickly moved to do damage control. “I was joking, Allura. You're supposed to laugh.”

Her mouth formed an ‘o’, before she chuckled behind her hand. “My bad. I'm just so used to your…”

It was obvious she was hesitating for his sake, but Lance simply shrugged and laughed it off. A step towards recovery.

“It's okay. Now, what do you want to try here?”

And it stayed that way; Lance making lighthearted comments, Allura laughing and reciprocating the sentiment. However, within Allura’s eyes, there was something unsaid. Something that needed to come to light. It unnerved Lance to no end.

“Lance?” she queried eventually, fork mid-air with a piece of syrup-soaked pancake on the edge of it. “What is the matter?”

Was he really that obvious? That transparent with his feelings?

He laughed it off, ignoring that slight tug of his heart, the gentle sting within the corner of his eyes. There was a lot wrong with this situation, with _him,_ but it was something that needed to be left for another day. For now, his priority was to entertain Allura with the Earth cultures she was enraptured with. It was his duty as her friend to do so.

And so, once they had finished at the diner, Lance graciously paying for the precarious amount of food Allura had tried, the two ran across the road with hands over their heads, hoping to shield the rain and giggling all the way. They stopped at book shops, at clothing shops-

_(“Do you think this would look nice, Lance?”_

 

_A snort. “That's a trainwreck of patterns, Allura.”_

 

 _A pout. “Another one, then.”_ )

-at the coffee shops and the grocery stores, and finally found themselves sheltering underneath the roof that held a picnic table underneath, facing the brightly-coloured playground Lance once used to beg his mother to go to. It brought a nostalgic smile to Lance's face.

“We need to talk.” Allura started, eyes trained on the ground below her. Lance's heart skipped a beat and the sliver of terror within his stomach started to grow. “We need to… be honest with each other, Lance.”

Allura was biting her lip, hands once again folded within her lap. Lance sighed, shoulders dropping in defeat. It was inevitable and he shouldn't have hoped that there would be no soul-searching discussions today. (Especially taking into consideration the events previous to settling down on Earth.)

“I have been honest with you, Allura.” Lance responded, picking at the weathered timber of the table. It was a lie, a horrible, sad lie, but Lance didn't want to open up. Not just yet.

Out of the corner of his eye, Allura frowned, obviously displeased with his answer. “You haven't, Lance. I can feel it.” She shuffled, grabbing both of Lance's hands within hers, determination set within her eyes. Lance's widened. “Tell me. Why are you are pulling away?”

His breath hitched and shoulders became tense. This wasn't how he wanted to discuss things.

“We're friends, Lance. Please. Trust me. Let me help you.” She was almost begging now, eyes searching Lance's. She was so genuinely concerned it almost made him cry.

“My place on the team…” He sighed shakily, pulling his hands away from Allura’s. He needed to keep away, to steer clear of the fuel to his fire. “...there is no place for me. Now that Keith is back, that Shiro is back again. There's not enough lions. Not enough space.”

There is a vague reminder of a similar scene to this in his head, but Lance ignores it. Not right now.

“My skills on the battlefield - they're far from the levels that you have achieved. That the others have achieved. You expect me to stay? Stay with a team that I know I'll be a liability to?”

Allura is visibly shaken from this sudden information: it's almost as though she were expecting something else to be confessed. She quickly places an empathetic smile on her face though, reaching out to pat Lance's hand.

“You are far from a liability, Lance.” She started, voice low and comforting. Lance doesn't feel it. “You have helped the team countless times. Do you remember, all those times you selflessly sacrificed yourself for others? All those times you took charge when needed?”

He did remember them, and at one point he was proud of them. At one point, he was proud of himself.

“You are needed. We all want you here with us, Lance.” Allura continues, head tilting to the side with a gentle smile. “We all have grown so close. It would devastate us- would devastate _me_ if you left.”

If younger Lance were to hear this, he would have swooned, would have instantly taken it as a sign of reciprocation.

Hearing this now had settled a storm within him, one he was unaware of. It gave him an odd sense of calm, an odd sense of finality. _This is it,_ his heart whispers to him, _you can let go now._

“Thank you, Allura.” He whispers, voice hoarse with emotion. “I'm so grateful to have you as a friend.”

He lets go.

 

* * *

 

Within the soft afterglows of the radiating light, Lance stands within the golden rays, leaning upright against a large palm tree. The water laps at the shore only a few metres away, trading rocks and shells with the sand. It was picturesque, almost ethereal, how the colours seamlessly blended where the water met the sky.

He walked down to the sand, bare feet reveling in the long-missed feeling of sand between his toes. He sighed blissfully as he sat down, curling up his legs so that his chin was resting on his knees.

Apart from the rain, this was the one thing about Earth he had missed dearly. The languid laps of the shore, the softness of the sand, the salty air that clears his lungs. This was his origin; this was who he was.

There were steps behind him, and Lance already knew who it was without even looking.

“Your mother is looking for you.”

“Nice to see you too, Keith.” Lance laughed, looking up at the other over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Miss me?”

“Hardly.” Lance could hear the smile in his voice.

Without prompting, Keith sat beside Lance, keeping his legs close to his chest just as Lance had. The last rays of sunlight caught the few flyaway strands of his hair, spinning them into a golden thread. Lance would be lying if he had said Keith wasn't beautiful.

“About… earlier.” Keith started, eyebrows furrowed and a frustrated yet concerned look on his face. “I don't think you should stay on Earth.”

Lance huffed, stretching out his legs now and looking up towards the sky. The blue had taken on a darker gradient, with hues of purple on the small wisps of sparse clouds.

 _I want to stay with you._ Lance thought.

“Do you ever get homesick, Keith?” He asked instead.

“No.” Was the answer, blunt and straightforward. Lance had missed that. “I don't get homesick.”

He stayed silent, hoping it would urge Keith to keep talking. His voice was soothing in a way.

“I never was… attached to Earth.” It was simple, it was final. “I never had the things you do.”

Lance hummed in response, eyes drifting over to Keith’s curled position. He still looked rather distressed.

“I don't like losing the people that I care about.” Came after another block of silence, hitting Lance like a tonne of bricks. The implied _I don't want you to leave_ was enough to set Lance's pulse afire, rapidly rising as he willed his frayed nerves to calm themselves.

Keith placed a hand on Lance's leg. His breath hitched.

“You… do a lot for the team.” He mumbled, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “You shouldn't worry about who flies what, Lance.”

It brought a stupid grin to his face, the repeat of what was once said. Lance tried to hide it with a duck of the head. If he had just looked up, he would have seen the fond lopsided smile blooming against Keith's gold-lit face.

Keith removed his hand now, curling it back around his knees as he looked on, watching the soft ebb and flow of the waves. Lance watched him out of the corner of his eyes, unable to prevent his previous grin from falling into a gentle smile.

He had figured out a lot of things during his past few months back on Earth, things about himself that he had repressed in favour of focusing on Voltron.

He had realised he was no longer the immature child that once only cared about shallow crushes;

He had realised that no matter what, his family, his friends, were all supporting him;

And he realised, deep within his heart, that it truly was okay to fall in love with boys.

Sure, Lance was still a jovial, boisterous character who liked to throw around winks and flirtatious remarks, but now - now he knew himself better than anyone. He was worthy. He was wanted. He was _needed_.

“Thank you, Keith.” He murmurs, hand inching ever-so-slightly towards the other. There wasn't a great deal of distance between the two to begin with, and Lance was already closing the gap.

Keith turned then, sea breeze gently tousling his hair and the setting sun creating a halo-like effect upon him. A fond smile had found its way to his face, one that Lance had seen countless times before. Yet this smile- this smile held so much _more_ within it.

In a blink, Keith surged forward, cupping Lance's face with fervor and pressing their lips together. And god, did Lance _melt_.

Though it was rough and rather abrupt, Lance was floating, was so light in the aftermath, a lazy smile slowly unfurling upon his face.

And it was then, looking into dark, emotion-filled eyes, that Lance understood.

 _Stay with me_ they whispered, _I need you._

He was falling - oh god he was falling - and there was no bottom, no end there to catch him. His heart thrummed rapidly, his throat constricted, and his eyes watered with an intense fondness he hadn't ever felt before.

 _I will_ he promised, capturing Keith's bare hand with his, lacing their fingers together. _I will stay with you._

 

* * *

 

Lance often picked up on the little things.

He picked up on the softened gaze Keith always sent him, picked up on the teasing lilt behind Pidge and Hunk’s now-calmed words, picked up on Shiro and Allura’s pride within him.

It was now, sitting with his entire family, blood-related and space-related, that Lance felt at home. He knew his purpose, knew what he was sent to do.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> wew. this took me all day and all night to to bUT anything for lance. happy birthday you absolute star, wherever you are. 
> 
> come scream @ me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/vogelbiene?s=09)


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